


Taking Care

by eternalsojourn



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bottom!Eames, Domestic, Fluff, M/M, Mpreg, pregnant!Eames, top!arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-12
Updated: 2011-10-12
Packaged: 2017-10-24 13:37:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/264060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternalsojourn/pseuds/eternalsojourn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eight months along, Eames is huge and uncomfortable. A fic that’s one part domestic familiarity, one part affection, 2 parts sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking Care

**Author's Note:**

> **Beta** : [countrypixie1](countrypixie1.livejournal.com)

“No one buying this fucking car is going on some dream driving holiday along some wild, breezy, sunshiney coastline,” Eames said, all disdain and impatience. “They’re going to drive 16 times around the supermarket parking lot, ding the car next to them when they open the door, and scream at old ladies when trying to leave. It’s not freedom they’re selling, it’s a hunk of metal that people tie their self-worth to.”

Arthur cocked an eyebrow, suppressing a smirk. He dropped his hand from where it rested on the back of the sofa to stroke softly along the hairline at the nape of Eames’s neck.

“These advertisements really angry up the blood don’t they? Should I turn off the tv?” he said, drifting his fingers to caress behind Eames’s ear.

Eames looked like he was about to launch into a full-scale rant before he frowned, then sank into Arthur’s touch.

“Perhaps you should at that. These adverts drive me mad.”

“Not the ads,” Arthur said gently. “What’s up?”

Eames frowned and shifted uncomfortably. “It’s just... bad today. I’m unwieldy and my skin is too tight and everything aches and I just want to run until this restlessness wears off but I can’t.” He rubbed his giant belly reflexively, part massage, part soothing — himself or the baby, Arthur was never quite sure.

Arthur bit his lip, sympathy creasing his brow for a brief moment before it reassembled into something more reassuring. He reached across and rubbed Eames’s belly, brushing Eames’s fingers with his own.

“I’m sorry you feel unwieldy,” he said, choosing one complaint to focus on. “You look amazing, though. Perfect.” He nosed along Eames’s temple, then brushed his lips to them.

Eames huffed his disagreement but laced his fingers through Arthur’s.

“It’s the restlessness more than anything. I can’t run, I can’t row. Arthur, I’m going barmy here. I don’t think I can do another month of this.”

Arthur smiled against Eames’s cheek. “Of course you can. You’ve never shirked a challenge yet.” Arthur pressed small kisses to Eames’s cheekbone, down his cheek and turned Eames’s face to reach his mouth. After one, though, he couldn’t quite leave it. He stole another, longer, then another and began to open, to feel along the seam of Eames’s mouth, and Eames opened to him quickly.

Arthur tilted his head and with a hand at the back of Eames’s neck, used his fingers to move Eames to a better position, softly caressing Eames’s tongue with his own. Eames’s breath came in a slow huff through his nose as he gave himself over to the kiss, licking back in kind.

Pulling away but leaving his forehead pressed to Eames’s, Arthur said, “You were pretty active before. Maybe I just haven’t been running you down enough.”

Eames laughed reluctantly. “You do enough for me, darling.”

Ignoring Eames’s comment, Arthur kissed Eames again, this time letting his hand drift over the arc of Eames’s belly, drifting down towards the waistband of his pajama bottoms, lifting his soft, worn old t-shirt out of the way and trailing fingers over the taut skin there.

“I like you like this, did you know that?” Arthur asked, low, barely more than a shaping of lips by Eames’s ear.

“I had my suspicions,” Eames said, for the first time sounding more amused than tired.

“Mm?”

“Your spooning me every night and poking me in the back of the thigh with your hard cock when you rub this behemoth of a stomach might have given you away,” Eames teased.

“Well, I hardly think I need to hide it,” Arthur replied, then slid his hand lower over the soft material of Eames’s pajamas, tracing the outline of Eames’s semi-hard cock. “And you don’t seem very good at hiding your interest either. So it seems to me the solution to your restlessness is pretty obvious,” Arthur punctuated his point with a gentle squeeze to Eames’s shaft through the material.

Rather than respond, Eames just buried his face in Arthur’s neck, nuzzling his forehead first before lifting to press his mouth to it, soft and warm. He’d just worked his way back to Arthur’s mouth before he frowned deeply.

Arthur pulled back in confusion, but smiled when Eames picked up the remote and turned off the tv, scowling at it. Arthur took the opportunity to tug at Eames’s shirt until Eames lifted his arms so Arthur could pull it over his head.

“Wait here a second,” Arthur said, pecking a kiss to the scowl between Eames’s brows. He quickly retrieved the lube from the bedroom where it had been sorely neglected for weeks on end, then came back to find Eames slumped back on the sofa idly palming his erection against the underside of his belly.

“Keeping yourself warm, I see,” Arthur smiled, and at Eames’s half-smirk, he added, “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

Arthur descended on Eames, kissing him deeply then moving down to suck at Eames’s nipples, now getting more sensitive as he drew nearer to his due date. Eames sucked in a breath when Arthur scraped his teeth against them, then sighed when he licked a soothing soft tongue over the slightly swollen nubs. Eames’s expression threatened to turn downright fond when Arthur kissed across Eames’s belly, though it was overlaid with heat when Arthur’s tongue flicked over the head of Eames’s cock. At that point Eames simply dropped his head to the back of the sofa and gave himself over to the sensation of Arthur licking and sucking gently, teasing Eames to maddening hardness.

When Arthur came back up to claim another kiss, Eames was equal parts affectionate and impatient.

“You keep starting and stopping things, love. Choose something and go with it,” he said, thumbing over Arthur’s cheekbone.

By way of answer, Arthur moved off and nudged Eames into kneeling, facing the back of the sofa. He made short work of drizzling lube on his own cock before gently pushing the remaining liquid inside Eames with one exploratory finger.

“Just wanted to make sure you were good and hard for this part,” Arthur said, then added another finger. Eames was out of practice for a few weeks, but eagerness made him more pliant than Arthur expected, and before long he was adding a third.

“How’s this,” he asked, gently pushing his fingers up further and pushing his own aching erection into the flesh of Eames’s arse cheek.

Eames grunted very softly. “I’d say if you don’t sink it in me now, I might get very impatient with you indeed,” Eames said, clenching his fists as his elbows rested on the back of the sofa, belly pressing softly into the pillowed back.

Arthur closed his eyes for a moment before kissing the back of Eames’s shoulder and positioning his now-leaking cock at Eames’s entrance. He rubbed it across a few times, feeling it bump across the muscle and push against the yielding flesh on either side before pressing in, keeping his cock steady with his hand and holding his breath until he’d breached that first resistance.

When he was halfway in Arthur reached around with both hands as if to support the weight of Eames’s belly, and used it to gently pull himself all the way in.

“Oh. That’s...” Arthur said as his hand slid over the naked taut skin of Eames’s swell. He found a rhythm quickly, using one hand to map the curve of Eames’s stomach and the other to curl around Eames’s cock, stroking it firmly but slowly, pressing it up against the firm bulk just because he could. “That’s perfect,” Arthur breathed, and Eames didn’t object this time, in word or in gesture. He simply rocked his body back into Arthur’s thrusts and let Arthur stroke as he would.

Eames braced himself on the back of the sofa, dropping his head to his forearms and starting to groan slightly when Arthur picked up his pace, using a few light fingers to expertly coax Eames to orgasm, neither of them caring when Eames splattered the sofa with spurts of come, not when Arthur was tucked so close, curved around him like they were molded to fit.

It took only a few more moments of Arthur rocking into Eames before he gripped tight and grunted, spilling himself inside while Eames just held himself still, waiting for Arthur to finish so he could feel that press of lips, that final punctuation that would seal the end of his restlessness, the end of the deep dissatisfaction of his day.

The kiss came, firm and confident, long and reassuring, placed on Eames’s shoulder before Arthur eased himself out and worked them both into a semi-reclined state, enough for a quick cuddle before they’d both have to go shower, both too meticulous to remain sticky for long.

Eames laid on his side, one arm stretched up under his head and Arthur tucked behind him.

“You really are patient with my rants,” Eames said, lifting Arthur’s hand and kissing his knuckles.

“Shhh.” Arthur nuzzled into Eames’s hair, tightening his fist to tighter grip Eames’s fingers. “At least let me enjoy one minute of having calmed you down,” he whispered. Eames smiled, deciding to put off for a moment the thought of having to get up and move.

**End**


End file.
